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They Came for Blood: The Complete Sci-Fi Adventure Series, page 1

 

They Came for Blood: The Complete Sci-Fi Adventure Series
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They Came for Blood: The Complete Sci-Fi Adventure Series


  Copyright © 2020 by Scott Moon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.scottmoonwriter.com

  They Came for Blood

  Complete Series

  Scott Moon

  Contents

  Stay Up To Date

  Book Order

  Invasion Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Resistance Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Victory Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Departure Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  What’s Next

  Please leave a review!

  Also by Scott Moon

  About the Author

  Cool Stuff from the Moon

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  Book Order

  THEY CAME FOR BLOOD

  Invasion Day

  Resistance Day

  Victory Day

  Departure Day

  A MECH WARRIOR’S TALE

  (SHORTYVERSE)

  Shorty

  Kill Me Now

  Ground Pounder

  Shorty and the Brits

  Fight for Doomsday (A Novel)… coming soon.

  CHRONICLES OF KIN ROLAND

  Enemy of Man

  Son of Orlan

  Weapons of Earth

  DARKLANDING

  Assignment Darklanding

  Ike Shot the Sheriff

  Outlaws

  Runaway

  An Unglok Murder

  SAGCON

  Race to the Finish

  Boom Town

  A Warrior's Home

  Hunter

  Diver Down

  Empire

  FALL OF PROMISEDALE

  Death by Werewolf

  GRENDEL UPRISING

  Proof of Death

  Blood Royal

  Grendel

  SMC MARAUDERS

  Bayonet Dawn

  Burning Sun

  The Forever Siren

  SON OF A DRAGONSLAYER

  Dragon Badge

  Dragon Attack

  Dragon Land

  TERRAN STRIKE MARINES

  The Dotari Salvation

  Rage of Winter

  Valdar’s Hammer

  The Beast of Eridu

  THE LAST REAPER

  The Last Reaper

  Fear the Reaper

  Blade of the Reaper

  Wings of the Reaper

  Flight of the Reaper

  Wrath of the Reaper

  Will of the Reaper

  Descent of the Reaper

  Hunt of the Reaper

  Bastion of the Reaper

  ORPHAN WARS

  Orphan Wars

  SHORT STORIES

  Boss

  Fire Prince

  Ice Field

  Sgt. Orlan: Hero of Man

  The Darklady

  ASSASSIN PRIME

  The Hand of Empyrean

  Spiderfall

  Invasion Day

  They Came for Blood Book One

  Chapter One

  “Copy that, Gummy Bear. I see Evel Knievel, one time on the overpass. Is he actually hanging paper this late?” David asked.

  “Just looking pretty. Sittin’ bike-to-car with Smokey.” Gummy Bear’s voice filled the CB radio with feminine richness. “I’ll bet Smokey is behind on his quota. They’ve been lazy all day, like they’re distracted. Gives me an unpleasant feeling. Watch your speed. Where you headed, Jackknife?”

  “Motor City to Loveland, then all the way to Idiot Island,” David said.

  “What are you doing on I-70?”

  “I like the Flint Hills. And Walrus says I-80 is a mess of construction. Four-ten?” David asked. He kept the mic near his mouth.

  “Ten-four. Interstate 80 is a logjam,” Gummy Bear said. “As long as you’re heading west on I-70, keep your eye out for a sweet little thing with a guitar on her back looking for an education. Halfway to Salina, depending on how good she is at hitchin’. Talk some sense into the sweetie.”

  “Ten-four. Jackknife, out.”

  “One more thing, Jackknife.”

  “Go.”

  “Keep an eye on the sky.”

  David “Jackknife” Osage pondered the advice, holding the radio mic ready while his mind struggled for a response. “It’s a little late to wish on a star.”

  “It’s something I’ve been hearing on the radio freqs a lot. Weird shit. Meteor storms and stuff.” Static and interference covered her words.

  David racked the mic. He liked Gummy Bear. She was always happy but something about her tone tonight bothered him.

  Thirty minutes later, he spotted the girl, guitar case slung over one shoulder, loitering under a tall highway lamp at the exit. Stupid place to stand.

  With a high-dollar backpack and two-hundred-dollar boots to match, her wardrobe looked like she’d bought it on her father’s credit card. She’d probably had it delivered by an Amazon drone.

  He shook his head. Drones were for science fiction and about as real as his last five tax returns. Shiny gadgets couldn’t whiz heavy freight coast to coast. That required trains and trucks, which meant David “Jackknife” Osage would always have a job.

  He drove past her, exhaust pipes booming like machine guns as the Jake Brake engaged. She had her hood down far enough to show a wisp of blonde hair and smooth skin.

  If she was still there after he finished his dinner, he’d have a talk with her. But only because Gummy Bear asked him to.

  He had two coffees and a grand slam
breakfast at eleven o’clock at night. Kitchen noise and the agitated yammering of some good ole boys at the end of the counter prevented him from hearing the television. He watched anyway. Cops in Seattle wore riot gear for a protest. Made him worry about his little sister in the Chicago Police Department.

  Cops looked after each other, he hoped. Laura had never been risk averse. Which reminded him of the runaway Gummy Bear had wanted him to check on.

  The girl was still standing near the lamppost when he walked out, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. He wondered how many rides she’d turned down. Her choosiness was a mark in her favor, but she was still an idiot. A sheep. Or maybe not. There was a better-than-average chance that if she was still hanging around like a lot lizard, she was a lot lizard, just a young one who was still cute.

  He walked toward her—when he left, it would be in the other direction. Face-to-face contact was better for this kind of thing anyway. He hated talking down at hitchhikers from his window. “What’s your name, girl?”

  “What’s it to you?” she asked, stepping away from the pole—opening an avenue to run if he tried to grab her.

  “You know Gummy Bear?”

  “That scary old crone driving the pink big rig?” the girl asked.

  “She’s twenty-nine,” David said.

  The girl shrugged. “Looks forty-nine.”

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “Eighteen.”

  “How original. Eighteen and just barely legal.” He was about done with this conversation. “You’ve got all your teeth and good skin. So if you’re a meth head, you’re new.”

  “That’s bullshit,” she said, huffing in disgust. “You take one look at me and assume I’m a drug addict.”

  He leaned closer, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “How many runaway girls working this interstate do you think have drug problems?”

  “I’m not working the interstate, asshole.” Her accent was hard and vaguely exotic.

  David tried to place it but couldn’t. He’d been all over the country, but her cadence didn’t fit any particular region. “What will the sheriff say if I tell him there’s a minor standing on the curb looking like she’s gonna do some illegal hitchhiking? You realize it’s illegal to walk on the interstate?”

  She crossed her arms but otherwise ignored him.

  “You’re telling me he’s not gonna come out here and run your name? Check NCIC and get you shipped back home to Mommy and Daddy?”

  “You’re not a cop. It doesn’t matter how you talk. You know what’s what. I bet you’ve got a criminal record,” she said. “You been to prison?”

  “I did time.”

  She laughed incredulously. “And I should take a ride with you? What’d you get locked up for?”

  “Evade and Elude Police. Back in my street-racing days. Gets addictive. Not a lot of consequences, until you kill somebody in a car wreck or fight with the cops.”

  “Which did you do?” she asked, facing him now, her attitude saying she could see through his bullshit.

  He didn’t have the time or energy to hassle with some tortured youth who thought she knew everything. “You want a ride or what?”

  “Why should I trust you? What’s in it for me?”

  “My sister’s a cop. I can have her run your name. See if anyone’s looking for you,” he said. “I’m safe. I didn’t take this job to meet women.”

  “Does your sister have an opinion about your felonious past?”

  “She’s my little sister,” David said. “I’m the reason she became a cop. Told her if she wants to drive fast, she should get a badge.”

  The hitchhiker’s defenses melted and she laughed.

  He waved her toward his truck. “Get in. This is no place to stand around. Local girls show up, they’ll beat your ass and leave you behind a dumpster.”

  She followed him but waited while he climbed in and started the engine. Smart. What were the chances a strange man in a truck stop would push her in first, have his way with her, then push her out the other side?

  He rolled down his window and leaned out. “You can come around on the passenger side and climb up. I’m going as far as California. Take it or leave it.”

  She hesitated, hefted her backpack and softshell guitar case, then ran around to the other side and climbed in.

  “Are these audiobooks? You listen to romance novels? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said, one hand on the door handle.

  “I’ve got a thing for Nora Roberts. Started listening to her books when two things happened: there was nothing left at the truck stop and I was feeling sorry for myself. Country and western music only takes a broken heart so far.”

  “You listen to country, and I’m out.” She fastened her seatbelt.

  “No promises.”

  She pushed earbuds into her ears and curled up facing the door.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She pulled out an earbud. “What?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Call me Diamond Dust. Stage name,” she said, tapping the guitar case she had positioned between them in the center console.

  He laughed. “Can’t call you Diamond. That’s a stripper’s name.”

  “Friends call me Dust.” She put her earbuds back in and faced the door.

  He concentrated on driving for a while, no audiobooks, no radio, no conversation with his guest. Traffic was heavy.

  Three Kansas Highway Patrol troopers running radar on eastbound traffic seemed distracted and tense. He’d slipped through a lot of speed traps and this one didn’t seem like it was for real. Which bothered him, because that didn’t make sense. Why would they drive out here just to park along the highway? The girl uncurled from her power nap and followed his gaze.

  “What do you care?”

  He picked up the mic. “Eastbound approaching Bob Dole’s place, you got three full-grown bears with their hotshots out.”

  “We’re westbound,” she said.

  “I’m talking to people going east. They’re gonna reciprocate by telling me what’s ahead of us.”

  “Westbound, be advised it’s a turtle race up there, shoulder to shoulder. Thanks for the heads-up.”

 
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